Forgetting the Rain
by Fizzing Whizbee2
Summary: What happens when rules are broken, boundaries are crossed, and all seems perfect? The inevitable, of course; heartbreak. Takes place in 7th year when some chemistry seems to appear between the two most unlikely people. Rating to be safe.
1. Midnight Meeting

A/N: This is my first legitimate attempt at a Harry Potter fic, not counting the ones where I wrote a bit of one chapter, realized my idiocy, and promptly stopped writing it. Hopefully, that will not happen with this one. Also, this is my first shot at a Draco/Hermione story, I just thought they'd be so cute together, so... here you have it: Chapter 1 of Forgetting the Rain.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, if I did, I definitely wouldn't be wasting my time on my rickety old Mac typing this. I'd probably be counting my money.   
  
- - - -  
  
If it hadn't been for one of his team mates' (rather harsh) cry of 'Malfoy!' he'd have been thirteen feet in the ground with an angry bludger lodged into his skull before he even knew who -or what- had hit him. Luckily for him, a nifty barrel-roll on his brand-new StarGrazer 3000 saved him from that fate. Drat! He needed to keep his eyes on the game, and *off* Hermione Granger.   
  
And yet, how could he, with her looking beautiful as ever on the blessed sunny day. Bloody hell! She was a mudblood, not worthy of even a passing glance from the pureblooded Draco Malfoy. That phrase was just about all that kept the hateful words flowing out of his mouth to her. Imagine what father would say if he befriended a Gryffindor.   
  
Running a hand through his platinum locks, he tilted the front of his broom slightly, sending him rocketing high above the Quidditch pitch, and gradually that certain Gryffindor become only a tiny dot in his eye. Out of his keen peripheral, a glint of gold hovered right by the Hufflepuff goal, 30 meters away. They were already slaughtering the weaker team 70-10, so why not get the game over with? With a ragged sigh, he shifted his position, now laying almost parallel to the broom handle. Like a rocket, he sped off to claim victory on behalf of all Slytherins.   
  
The Hufflepuff seeker quickly saw his direction, but was outstripped by the powerful broom in a matter of moments, his own Cleansweep Seven looking more useful as a cleaning tool at the moment. Grasping the wooden handle of his own broom with one hand, Draco lurched forward, and closed the fingers of his other hand around the small, wriggling golden ball which he then raised triumphantly in the air. A waves of cries erupted from the Slytherin side of the stands, while groans came form the rest of the houses. And yet, even Draco couldn't rightly wear a smug grin through his victory.   
  
- - - -  
  
Hermione let out a pent-up breath as she saw the players land with a 'thud' on the green tur of the playing field. The Gryffindors would now have to beat Slytherin by at least seventy in the game that hovered ominously two weeks ahead. And Hermione knew only too well what that meant, that she probably would be seeing very little of her two best friends. Ever since Ron had joined the team as a Chaser two years prior, it was nearly impossible to sever the two boys from their beloved Quidditch field.   
  
She filed out of the tower behind Harry and Ron, who were animatedly chatting about tactics, which was worse then a foreign language to their Quidditch-inept friend. She turned around quickly when a tap came to her shoulder, finding herself face to face with Ginny Weasley.   
  
"Don't worry, the season will be over soon." The younger girl gave a knowing smile. 'Not soon enough.' Hermione was tempted to add. The red-head just went riht on into telling her a joke she'd heard from so-and-so, and Hermione, only half-listening let her mind wander to other things at hand. Namely OWLS and Transfiguration.  
  
- - - -  
  
Dinner went past in a blur, thankfully enough. Hermione vaguely remebered laughing, and eating of course, but the rest was just beyond her reach. As she lay in bed that night, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be in love. Harry and Ginny were definitley an item, whether they realized it was so obvious or not. She had noticed their lengthy glances at each other frequently over the past year, but Ron seemed to overlook them. Probably to busy trying to sneak a look up Lavender's robes, she mused with a smile. Though her friend would turn beet red and throw up slugs before he ever admitted that. And yet bookish Hermione Granger; the know-it-all, the show-off, had *no one*, and why it hurt, she didn't know.  
  
Suddenly the Head Girls' room felt entirely too small, leaving her feeling clogged in the confines of her quiet bedroom. Seizing the chance for an adventure, she swung her legs over the side of her four-poster, and silently exited the room, the floor cold under her bare feet.   
  
She just *had* to get out. Creeping out of her room proved an easy-enough task, even for one who rarely bent the rules, as she. Unlike the other years at Hogwarts, she was now Head Girl, with a room of her own, and no nosy roommates poking around.   
  
The corridor was drafty, making Hermione shiver in her light robe, which she had hastily thrown over her nightgown. Her toffee-colored eyes widened slightly, the emptiness of the halls foreign to her. With hushed footsteps,she hurried down the winding staircase that separated the Head Girl and Head Boys' rooms from all others.   
  
It was eerily quiet, though it was much welcomed by Hermione, rather than the lud hustle-and-bustle of a normal day. Vaguely, she wondered where she should go. As she rounded a corner on the third floor unsuspectingly, she collided with a solid object, sending her backwards onto her rear. Glaring haugtily up at her unseen attacker, it was a moment before she rocognized the platinum-blonde hair and hauntingly grey eyes of Draco Malfoy, looking tall and dangerous from her vulnerable postition on the floor.  
  
"Granger!" He gasped out on a hoarse whisper, obviously as surprised to see as as she had been to see him. His face was a meltingpot of indecision, as if he couldn't decide whether to help her up, scowl at her, or dart away.  
  
"What in Merlins' ghost are *you* doing here."  
  
With an indignant tilt of her head, she huffed, and hoisted herself back to her feet, trying hard as she could to size him up, though it was pityfully useless, seeing as he had a head-and-a-half on her. Height-wize, at least.  
  
"I could ask to same to you, *Malfoy*. But seeing as I'm Head Girl, I'd say you're in more of a pickle at the resent time, wouldn't you agree?"  
  
- - - -  
  
Coming Up: Malfoys confession... An interesting encounter... a distraction in Potions.  
  
Thanks for reading and please REVIEW 


	2. Distractions

A/N: Here it is: Chapter Two. Sorry Chapter One was so short, it's hard to be very descriptive when first getting into the story. The plot will develop a bit more, and hopefully you'll begin to see where this is headed. Oh, and I'm always open to suggestions, so if you want something to happen later in the story either post a rating, or email me your idea and I'll see if I can work it in.   
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, but I *do* own this yummy cookie... yum... cookie...  
  
- - - -  
  
Regaining his composure by the second, Draco straightened up to his full height, and resting one hand on his lean hip with a smug grin. She may be Head Girl, but was surely no match for the wits and tongue of the uncrowned prince of Slytherin. Running his free through his hair, he contemplated the short but vehement girl before answering her question.   
  
"What? Can't a rule-abiding student of this school take an innocent stroll in the dead of night?" His voice held some amusement, but it was quite obvious to see he was hiding something. Even *Ron* would be able to see that.  
  
She held his gaze for a moment more, eyes narrowed scrutinizingly. "Considering your record of school... offenses, I'd say not. 10 points from Slytherin and detention tomorrow night." She gave a smile about as equally smug as his, showing him she was milking her position for all it was worth. Wasn't payback pleasant?  
  
Crossing her arms over her chest, she dared him to argue with her decision. "I suppose thats all Mr. Malfoy, now will you be a *good* lad and scurry off to whatever hole you crawled out of, or shall I have to escort you back to your dorm myself?" Her voice held an icy chill that even he was shaken by.  
  
It was amazing how one bushy-haired eleven year old girl could turn out to be a disagreeable, pretty seventeen year old girl. It baffled him to no end where so much confidence came from, because she certainly had none whatsoever every time Snape turned his sneer on her. Raising one milky blonde brow, he regarded her with interest before he gave a curt nod of his head and a soft chuckle to show her he wasn't ruffled in the least.   
  
"I can't trust myself these days, I'm sure you'll have to stay with me the whole night through to make sure I don't get into any... mischief." It was a dare, and she was sure of it. The instant those words dropped off the end of that smooth-talking tongue of his she had known he wouldn't relent easily. Tilting her head slightly to the side, she gave in to his challenge.   
  
"Oh, I don't think that will be necessary Malfoy, I know a good Leg-Locker curse that will work nicely enough for that."  
  
Proceeding down the hall towards the Slytherin rooms, she beckoned him to follow her with a curved finger. With a stumped shrug, he obliged, and quickened his step to catch up with her.  
  
No, this certainly wasn't the shy, docile Hermione Granger he had grown to love tormenting, this confident young woman had just had the last word on none less than Draco Malfoy. Even Ron hadn't lived up to that dream yet...  
  
He couldn't help but notice how well the light robe clung to her hips, and smiled softly to himself as he admired her matured form, in more ways than one. It was pleasing the way her rear swung slightly side-to-side with each step, yet it wasn't exaggerated, like some others he could name, and yet appealing all the same.  
  
It was all too soon for his liking when they came to the portrait of a thin, reedy man that slightly resembled their Potions teacher, which marked the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. He was outwardly displeased when he muttered the password (Drangonscales), and glared a the portrait swung open on it's hinge with a creak. With a flourish of his hand, and lopsided smirk, he bid her entrance before him.   
  
"Ladies first. You are a lady, are you not? But I don't suppose *mudbloods* count so..." He gave her a particularly nasty sneer before stepping through before she had a chance too. Hermiones chin shot up at the derogatory insult, eyes narrowed in disgust, fighting down the urge to smack right on his pompous nose.   
  
"If that is all you need, Malfoy, I'll be on my way." Turning sharply on her heel, she hastened away, but unfortunately not fast enough to miss his last snide remark. "Yes, I do suppose you man-slaves have need of you." She was relieved as she heard the portrait swing shut behind her, glad he couldn't see the tears gathering in the corners on her eyes.  
  
- - - -  
  
She slept easier after that incident, and was but delighted when the sun rose to meet her in the dawn of the day. Groaning groggily, the scenes from last nights' escapades replayed in her mind as she quickly dressed into her school robes. Malfoys' cruel remarks, only boiled her blood further, upping her resolve to give him what he deserved; a split lip, and about an eternity of detentions.   
  
With an inward smile, she ran a comb through her hair, which now shone a beautiful chestnut, she considered it one of her best features since she learned how to tame the once-bushy locks.   
  
Slipping on her shoes, she grabbed her Transfiguration books, and nearly flew out the door, hastening down the numerous staircases to breakfast.  
  
She arrived panting a heaving, but thankfully not late. Spotting an open seat nearby Harry and Ron, she walked toward it with a smile, but it quickly faded when Lavender rushed up and occupied it before Hermione had a chance to. Harry laughed at some private joke Ron was sharing with him before looking up and raising a hand in greeting to his friend.  
  
"'Lo Hermione." Ron gave her a nod before turning the conversation back to himself, chewing on a waffle all-the-while. Frowning slightly, she searched for an empty space at the Gryffindor table, but was not pleased to see that the only available space was beside Colin Creevy, Harry's number-one fan, and his brother, Dennis.   
  
The younger boys were only too happy to make room for the Head Girl, and immediately began talking synanimously, not even stopping for a moment to take a breath. Hermione marveled vaguely at their breath capacity before tuning them out and focusing on a partiualry tasty pancake.   
  
It was had to come second, she knew the feeling of being left out well. Ever since Harry and Ron had realized girls were not the bane of their existence, and that kissing was not poisonous, their attention towards Hermione seemed to deplete. It was as if she ceased to matter, and their was only room left in their days for a pretty face and Quidditch.   
  
With a bitter disposition, she finished her meal. Though if queried about it, she couldn't have said what she ate, or what it tasted like, except to say it felt heavy in the pit pf her stomach.  
  
- - - -  
  
Transfiguration passed without incident, consequently enough. And the whole class was genuinley surprised when the famed Hermione Granger did not raise her hand, not once.   
  
Her two 'friends' just happened to realize she still happened to be breathing right after class.   
  
"Oi! 'Mione." She turned around at the sound of Rons voice, finding the tallish redhead and the Boy-Who-Lived looking the tinyest bit flusted at her silence all hour. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Fine and dandy as ever." It had come out a bit too snappily, but was nothing less then they deserved. The two boys turned to each other a shrugged at her annoyance.  
  
- - - -  
  
She lost focus in Potions at about the same time she notcied a tiny mole on the side of Draco Malfoys neck. Not that she had been staring, of course. At least not that she would admit.   
  
"Miss Granger?" Severus Snapes' harsh tone brought her back to reality in a snap.   
  
"Huh? Oh, what?"  
  
"Dozing off in class, Granger? 5 points from Gryffindor and detention for you." She groaned at her own misfortune, and spent the rest of the class thinking up rather gruesome death for her least favorite proffessor.  
  
"What on earth is wrong with you today?" Harry's concerned voice ruptured a particularly nasty daydream.   
  
"Absolutely nothing at all, except the fact I have detention with *Snape*!" She wondered what it would be, cleaning cauldrons, counting lizard tongues? It was then that she remembered this was the day she had given Draco Malfoy detention, and it was with *him* that she would serve it. Talk about bad luck and irony.  
  
- - - -  
  
Hope you liked it. I'm surprised I got this chapter up so quick after the first one. I'd really appreciate some input so please post a rating if yo have the time!  
  
Next: ... an *interesting* detention... Malfoy's NICE?... 


	3. Cleaning Cauldrons

A/N: And the plot thickens... You can all probably guess what's going to happen, but don't worry, I'm not going gushy on you. Plus there's a delightfully angsty twist near the end. Just to keep you on your toes.  
  
Disclaimer: Blah Blah Blah, yadda yadda yadda, etc. etc. etc...  
  
- - - -  
  
She didn't have much of an appetite for dinner that night, somehow the thought of detention with Malfoy wasn't all that appealing to her stomach. But Harry and Ron's sympathy helped a bit.  
  
"If he lays a hand on you, you just tell us, and we'll make him rue the day he set foot on Hogwarts ground, the slimeball." Ron had growled over a heaping plateful of mashed potatoes, Harry nodding along with him. Her friends' concerns made her feel a bit better, even if they sounded a bit cruel. She'd had a good dose of Snapes detentions before, and wasn't happy to be repeating the experience. What kind of Head Girl gets detention? "Thanks, I really appreciate it..." Hermione smiled faintly, taking a small nibble off the corner of a roll. "I just hope it doesn't come to that." Sneaking a furtive glance over to the Slytherin table, she got a short glimpse of him laughing at some surely obscene joke Blaise Zabini was telling him. It was going to be a long night for sure.  
  
- - - -  
  
She arrived at the Potions dungeon only a moment before Malfoy, smug grin in place as always. Snape emerged from the back of the room wielding two bristle-hair brushes with malice written all over his face.   
  
"I have business to attend to, but I'm sure you will not need my presence when you are cleaning cauldrons." A menacing sneer twitched at his lips, directed at Hermione. "*Without* magic." Setting the brushes on a nearby table, he extracted his own wand, and with a flick of the tip and mutter of 'Accio' he had both of their wands in his hand. That was just like Snape, when things seemed like easy goings, he'd go and muck it all up.   
  
"Now get to work, you two." Snape walked past them and out the door before either had a chance to protest, as if they could. With an incoherent grumble, Hermione stamped across the room, picked up one brush and flung it straight at Malfoy's smirking face. Great, just great. It would definitely take them hours to clean the vast array of cauldrons that needed their attention. Obviously Snape felt that a plethora of cauldrons would straighten them up into upstanding students, though his remedy would surely be an annoying experience.  
  
"Well, we'd better get to work." Malfoy responded almost cheerfully despite their predicament. He was lucky her aim was bad, and the brush bounced ineffectively off his shoulder.  
  
Brush in hand, Hermione started in on the first cauldron, attacking it with a vengeance. Clenching her teeth, she pictured that it's grimy surface was Draco Malfoy's infuriatingly handsome face as she took the brush to it. Obviously her antics had not gone unnoticed by certain grey eyes within the room, for a moment later Draco spoke, one eyebrow raise in question.  
  
"Good god, Granger. We want to *clean* the cauldrons, not put holes in them." She shot him a silencing glare that not even the infamous Draco Malfoy cared to respond to.  
  
- - - -  
  
Hours later and still scrubbing furiously away at what seemed like her thousandth cauldron, she felt a soft tap on her shoulder, make her start, and look up into the amazingly penetrating eyes of Draco Malfoy. He was holding to cups of something, and one was extended down to her. Hermione dropped the brush into the bottom of her current cauldron, then, rising slowly, she wiped her hands inconspicuously on her robes before gingerly taking the mug between her hands, eyes it untrustingly.  
  
"I didn't slip anything in it Granger..." A frustrating smile tugged at his lips. She snuck a glance at his face, then back to the swirling cup of pumpkin cider, still unsure. Rolling his eyes to the ceiling, he reached out, took the cup she had been holding, and replaced it with his. Raising a brow to her, he took a long swig, proving the validity of the drink. Almost instantly a smile broke onto her face as she mirrored his action.  
  
"So," Taking another sip, she decided Malfoy wasn't too bad afterall."Where in Merlins' ghost did you get this?" She had known had known he was resourceful, but...  
  
"A Malfoy, Miss Granger, is *always* prepared." His voice seemed to have lost it's edge, she noticed, and was pleasantly surprised when he dug inside his robe pocket and extracted a handful of chocolate frogs.   
  
The air lost some of its' viscosity, and breathing was much easier. Laughing, she took one of the offered chocolates, and -after unwrapping it- popped it into her mouth with a grin. "I guess I should thank you, Malfoy."  
  
He shrugged off her reply, an almost shy smile taking form on his pale features. "No problem, and call me Draco, 'Malfoy' sounds so... cold."   
  
"Cold?" She didn't catch his meaning.  
  
"Frosty."  
  
"Frosty?" A spark of anger crawled into her throat."I can tell you, *Draco*, that I'm neither cold nor frosty nor..." She was advancing on him now, definitely imposing had she come to more than his chest.   
  
"Frigid." He interrupted. Even he had no idea where he was going with this, but a small voice in the back of his head urged him to further it.   
  
'*How dare he?*' She gasped, her eyes narrowing as she took another step closer to him, stabbing him in the chest with the tip of her forefinger to emphasize every word. "I. am. *not*. frigid."  
  
"Prove it." He grinned like a cheshire cat, broadly, with gleaming with teeth. "Prove it, prove it, prove it." Taking her now-empty mug once more from her hands, he set both on a table next to them. The smug look on her face should have been warning enough, but he was completely unprepared for what happened next.  
  
Grasping the front of his robes in her outstretched hand, she pulled with a forced he wouldn't have imagined she had, until his lips were locked with hers. At first he resisted, trying to push her away feebly, but then he relaxed to her touch, bliss coming when her tongue stroked longingly against his lips, begging entrance, and at last he gave it to her.   
  
Strong arms wrapped around her waist, he brought her flush against his toned body, leanly muscled from years of Quidditch. She threw herself against him, the feather-like brush of his tongue making her feel as though a Jelly-Legs Curse had just hit her full force. And yet she ached for more.  
  
Her scalp prickled, sending shivers up her spine. Tilting her head, she deepened the kiss, losing her self in it. When at last he pushed her away, though reluctantly, she spotted the naked hunger in those shielded grey eyes, hoping her own eyes hid hers.   
  
It took her a moment to regain her composure and speaking, thanking the Lord above that her voice was steady enough, though her mind wasn't. What on earth was going on here? First Draco Malfoy, most hated enemy was being *nice* to her, then she was kissing him, but nonetheless, she definitely wasn't showing *him* she was frazzled in the least.  
  
"Convinced Draco?" Somehow being on a first-name basis seemed almost intimate, with one such as him. Draco had nearly no idea what had happened, but it wasn't all too painful.A lopsided smile hung at his lips, arms hanging limply at his sides. Muttering something incoherent, Hermione was surprised that for the first time in his seventeen years of life, she'd wager, Draco Malfoy was speechless.   
  
- - - -  
  
Heh, had to be evil and end it there. Ain't I a stinker? Anywho, I'm surprised I got this done so quickly, only one hour for all this... I'm surprised at myself.  
  
Coming up: ... A little chat... surprises... 


End file.
